A Dark Desire
by Kos-Mos607
Summary: King would make a fine companion, his strength would only increase mine and the thought of what we could do this world together has me trembling with delight." SLASH! Drake/King, don't like, don't read


To all the people who reviewed and loved my last Blade Story I have this to say….I blame you for this! I'm kidding, I'm kidding, oddly enough I love working with these two. Hopefully you'll enjoy this as much as A Human Fear because who knows maybe I'll write more.

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**A Dark Desire**

The warm body in my arms becomes still as my mouth descends. He shutters as my tongue delicately licks the moist skin of his throat, and becomes as stiff as a corpse the moment I brush my fangs against his flesh.

I can smell his fear; it's intoxicating and excites the beast within me. Fear has always been a wonderful aphrodisiac to my senses, it's as addicting as any wine and some moments it is even more potent then blood. King's fear, however delicious it may be, always constricts the side of my chest in an unbearable way. It is clear the human doesn't trust me; his lack of faith is proven every time I lean close to the soft skin of his neck.

Trust is a comfort this human does not posses and for due reason. Before my sleep, my kin was respected and feared by all. Each new vampire was carefully chosen and accepted our life with nothing short of pure gratitude. My human, the only joy I have found in this new world, was deceived of that pleasure. In his short life as one of us, the higher race, he knew nothing but cruelty and humiliation by his sire's hand. Now human once more and full of memories, how could he not despise my children as much as I do?

I lean close once more, feeling my cold skin tingle with warmth when he gasps from our closeness. I nip the warm flesh once more with my teeth, savoring the taste almost as much as I enjoy the shiver it causes for him.

"Are you afraid?" I ask, keeping my face close to his neck.

I feel him swallow heavily.

"No."

What a lie, I tell myself. I admire his spirit, his refusal to reveal any of his fear to my eyes; it reminds me of myself in the younger years. As much as I admire it though, it does nothing to dull the sting from the lie.

"You are lying." I state in an even voice.

I feel his body tense under me.

I pull myself away from his neck, ignoring the sound of his heightened pulse in my ears. "You do not trust me?"

My human's eyes never leave the ceiling, for the past hour they've remained focused on the stale tile while I mapped his entire body with my hands and mouth.

"Would you trust me with a stake?"

I laugh deeply, oh how I love this human.

"Yes. You know as well as I do those will not affect me."

And indeed he does. When I first pursued him he tried all tools and methods he knew to repel me. The stakes broke into splinters the moment they struck my chest, the crosses fell to the ground uselessly and garlic merely upset my nose and nothing more. When he resorted to bullets, as most humans feel the need to do in this century, I forced him to watch as I removed the metal tips, one by one, with my fingers while the broken skin healed.

He was at a loss that night and confusion allowed me to push him to the closest wall and plunder his mouth until he was breathless. I did not force myself into him that night; I have never found much pleasure in an unwilling lover, too much power and blood for so little pleasure. I learned centuries ago that humans are so easily controlled once their desires are taken hold of. King was no different; his desire for contact was so strong it only took one touch of my hand before he melted against me. My human wasn't without his pride however, he fought against the pleasure until the dawn broke across the horizon, eventually giving in and allowing himself to enjoy the touches he desperately craved.

I raise my hand and touched the side of his face gently. He shivers from the touch, as he always does, and forces his eyes closed.

"I will not force it upon you, you know this." I say as I move to the other side of the bed, stretching the powerful limbs of my human form across the silk lining.

He says nothing, merely blinks once more as he gazes upward. I do nothing to encourage him, his behavior is nothing but predicable. He will curl his strong body against me soon; he hates the night as much as I long for it, and without me he is alone in the world. While he lays motionless my eyes are free to take in his form. I have laid with many boys over the centuries, in the early days they were often given freely from the villages in hopes of sating my hunger for blood while others were found throughout my travels, but he has no equal. His body is strong, muscled and almost unbreakable by my hands, almost – I have caused a few bruises and strains over the past year, some intentional and some not. His spirit is what I admire most, that I believe is unbreakable. Had he been alive centuries ago, he would've made a fine companion in my campaigns with his strength, bravado, and spunk.

The bed dips as he moves and I welcome him into my arms with a lazy smile. He curls against me, filling my cold body with his warmth. Before him, I had honestly forgotten the comfort a warm body could offer me and how - what's the word the human's use? - How _safe_ it could feel. It feels like I haven't a care in the world. It's a lovely feeling.

I gently grab his hand and bring his wrist to my mouth. My fangs flash in the dim light of the room as my tongue darts past my lips and laps at the skin, tracing the line of a vein as the pulse travels though it. I bite, gently, but I do not break the skin, even though his blood calls to me like no other. He inhales deeply and fights against the impulse to pull his arm away. I hold his wrist in a tight grip as I follow the trail to his shoulder and back to his neck. I mount him once more, rolling my powerful body on top of him, my tongue prodding the skin just below his ear.

He moans now, heavy and deep in his throat. I smile against his neck, knowing that he has given in for the night; he is now mine to do with as I wish. I slide my hands under his shoulders, lightly holding him still. He panics when he feels the pressure but his struggling is futile, I am much stronger then he can ever hope to be. He tries to move his neck away from my mouth but I prevent it by moving closer.

Blood is rushing through his veins at a rapid pace, it makes me feel light headed for a moment as I breathe in the heavenly scent, and with a growl, I do what I have desired to do since the first moment I caught his scent, I force my fangs to his neck. He yells when their tips break the skin, howling out my betrayal and his agony in one, loud, terrifying breath. I withdraw my fangs and greedily lap of the drops of blood pooling out of the holes I just made. The beast inside my chest roars from the bliss of the taste.

I lick until the blood stops flowing and clean the shallow wound. I can almost feel his confusion and puzzlement, wondering why I didn't make the wounds deeper and turn him. My mouth lingers at his neck for another moment, every part of my being enjoying his fear, before moving away and gazing down at his confused face.

His eyes are damp and bright with unshed tears.

"Why?"

I lean close to his face. "Because you do not wish it."

His face darkens and I smile, knowing what his next words will be.

"What the fuck?"

"I love that word, fuck." I purr deeply and in one, powerful movement I roll him onto his stomach. "It's so…fitting."

I lay myself over him, kissing, licking and biting the skin of his shoulders and back. He shivers and gasps, his body crying out for more. My fingers rub, tease, and probe at his bronze skin, causing him to make more sinful sounds. He moans huskily as I enter him, burying myself in the thick membrane of his insides. He moans and claws at the bedding, I growl and thrust; together we writhe on the bedding and tear the silk to long, ribbony shreds. My fangs break the skin of his left shoulder and I lap up more of his coppery blood. He makes no move to stop me, he only leans back against my chest and whispers for more. I grant his request, biting at more skin and creating shallow wounds that cause him minimal pain.

Before my sleep, the word trust meant an unspoken bond between two people, two men on the battlefield learned to fight with their backs to one another and knew deep in their chests the other man would protect their back, and a woman could trust their midwifes with her child. In the years during my sleep the world became colder and more barbaric then my time was. In this century, if one man turned his back to another he would quickly feel a knife slide through his flesh. My children feared no better; my once powerful kin have been reduced to mewing children fearful and frightened of their food source.

What transpired in the years I slept that reduced them to this sad existence I can't help but wonder. Was it their fear or their laziness that first gave the human's the opportunity to start fighting against our hold on the world? Did they develop an attraction to their prey and become enthralled by the human's vulnerability as I have? Since I first sought out this man, this Hannibal King, my blood lust has grown to a level it had not reached in centuries but I find myself unable to end his life. I desire a companion, someone to share the dark, velvety depths of my desires with. Someone who will help me understand this strange and barbaric world.

The beast watching the two of us from the tight confines of my flesh hums its agreement. King would make a fine companion, his strength would only increase mine and the thought of what we could do this world together has me trembling with delight. My only regret is that I was not his first sire, had he been my child to begin with he would've relished his gift instead of fearing it. I do not let that thought divert me though, he will be ready in time, and he will be mine, completely and entirely in time.

I have all the time in the world to wait; after all, I have waited for thousands of years.

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Big, big thankies go to Michael Schieflhein, his vampire novels helped me get into the right mind-frame for Drake. Thanks Mike, I love Viktor BTW.


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